


Pathways

by Raisans_Grapeon



Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Quadriplegia, Regret, Tetraplegia, The Southern Drawl returns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-08-24 09:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16637351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raisans_Grapeon/pseuds/Raisans_Grapeon
Summary: He was lucky to be alive, they all said. That fall could’ve killed him. Arthur thinks that would’ve been better than this.





	1. Similarities and Differences

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and thank you for joining in for this work of fiction. 
> 
> A few notes before we begin. 
> 
> I am not a professional in writing by any stretch of the imagination. I'm not even formally studying it unless you count my AP Language class. I have a lot of room to improve and I know that, so any and all constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged.
> 
> Also, I am not a doctor. I have made sure to do extensive research into the effects and such of quadriplegia, and while I fell confident in the information that I have gathered, if anything I write from here on out is physically or medically impossible or unrealistic, please tell me. The last thing I want to do is misrepresent. 
> 
> Thank you and enjoy.

Light cut across the darkness veiling Arthur’s vision as he tried to become aware of the outside world again. The overpowering white reminded him of his time in the hospital when he lost his arm. In fact, he could almost guarantee that this was the same way he woke up back then, minus the difficulty he had with breathing. Even the familiar lack of feeling had spread to his entire body. 

So that must’ve meant…

Sure enough, when Arthur’s eyelids pulled away, letting him absorb his surroundings, he caught sight of the all too familiar pristine walls, and black speckled ceiling tiles where fluorescent lights hung. It took a few blinks for everything to come into focus for the mechanic, the dry crust around his eyes telling him that it has been a while since he’s opened them. An audible beep could be heard right next to him, steady and consistent. It probably had been for a while, but Arthur’s guess was not one to be taken seriously. He strained to lull his head to one side. It fell to the right, away from where the heart monitor was. There was nothing to his right but more machines, and hard, plastic, dark navy chairs neatly pushed against the wall. The air reeked of disinfectant, but Arthur didn’t feel the usual urge to vomit. He figured he finally got used to the stench, that thought alone being terrifying in its own rights. He blinked, thinking to what could’ve gotten him here again. His mind ran through the events in quick succession. Driving. Ghost truck. Tree Lady. Shop. Truck. Cave. Ghost. Lewis. Falling. 

Falling. The memory clicked in with the timeline. Arthur was dropping down into the spikes at the bottom of the pit. Lewis stood above, hand still outstretched but the skull to far away now for Arthur to be able to register what his dead friend was feeling.

Dead. Lewis was dead. The entire time. Years he spent fretting, hoping, begging to find Lewis somewhere and here he was. Dead. He needed to know why. The questions tore at his mind.

Tore. Tear. Tearing. He recalled a tearing sensation. Teeth burrowed into his left arm as a large, white, black, and red fox tore off his arm. The pain was overwhelming, he could recall from the moment. He could no longer feel it, but he knew of the anguish.

The story reconstructed itself backwards, forcing the memories Arthur’s brain had condemned to be forgotten, into light. They whirred around, replaying constantly, sped up so much to the point where Arthur thought he would get motion sickness from the images in his head. They all burned in his mind to make up for the lost years. Breathing became more difficult than before. His lungs felt like they could collapse in on themselves, the heart monitor beside him picking up in rate. The mechanic squeezed his eyes shut as if it would banish his thoughts and feelings right back to where they came from. Yet, they lingered, and he needed a distraction to pull his mind away before it got swept down into a turbulent river of regret and misery. 

Seeing that he had no one to interact with, Arthur decided to entertain himself till someone, maybe a doctor, Lance, or Vivi, decided to drop by and check up on him. He pulled his head back to center, staring up at the ceiling again. The mechanic figured he could find a remote somewhere and lift his bed up a little bit so he could see more of the room without lifting his head up and hurting his spine, and maybe make breathing a bit easier. With a deep breath, Arthur turned his head to the left in search of a controller to bring the elevation of the bed up so that it might also help his apparent breathing problem. His eyes searched the other side, but nothing else could be seen but the heart monitor. His port was empty, which made sense. It was probably broken after that fall. With a grunt, Arthur willed his head back to the right again, training his eyes to his bed rather than the wall and chairs. White light glinted off the IV tube that was attached to Arthur’s limp right arm. 

The mechanic blinked, fixated on his last arm. He noted, that it looked thinner than usual and his skin was pale. He needed to get a closer look at it though. A closer look. He just needed to lift it. But it wouldn’t move upon his brain’s command. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, and tried to get a feel for what the problem was.

And that was the problem.

No reception came from his right arm. It was like it wasn’t even there. Now that the thought came to light, Arthur couldn’t feel anything. If he hadn’t been looking, the mechanic was sure that he wouldn’t be able to tell whether or not his legs were even there. The world stopped. He couldn’t hear the heart monitor, though it should be driving like crazy. There was no buzz from the lights above, but they were clearly on. It was deathly silent to Arthur as every thought came to a screeching halt. Only one hung in his mind. He couldn’t feel his arm. He couldn’t feel his legs. He couldn’t feel his chest, or his heart. He jerked his head to stare at the heart monitor. The spikes were dangerously close together. But his heart was beating. Arthur couldn’t look away. He had to make sure he was still alive. Never before had the mechanic have such a difficult time breathing. His brain began registering noises again. The heart monitor beeped frantically. Shoes could be heard squeaking down the hall in a panicked run, getting closer to his room. Arthur was sure that the nurses had his condition reading up somewhere so they could make sure no one around there was dying or what not. They were coming to calm him down. But what the hell could he do? He couldn’t move anything other than his head.

The thought hurt, burned his brain and taunted him. He couldn’t do anything. He was trapped with absolutely no way out. He couldn’t run, he couldn't hide. He couldn’t even wave hello to anyone that entered. 

A nurse rushed in, but Arthur didn’t move. Couldn’t move. He stared at his heart monitor. Breathing was hard. Was he breathing? Heart beating. But was it beating?

It only took a few blinks till the world got away from the ginger blond once again.


	2. Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivi wishes she would listen every once in a while

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A great big ol' thanks to m' lil Discord friend for proof reading some of the Southern in this chapter.
> 
> Critiques are, as always, welcomed.
> 
> Thank you.

A soda hit the bottom of a hospital vending machine, grabbed by a woman dressed in blue. Vivi turned the lightly chilled drink in her hands. It wasn’t ice cold, but the hospital had some standards. With a resigned shrug, she tapped the top of the can a couple of times before allowing herself to open it up. She slurped the coke beverage noisily, looking out at the cafe, lounge thing they had for visitors at the hospital. The room was warmer than the rest of the building, the lights having an orange hue to it, and the walls being painted red so it matched the carpet. It was a strange and unexpected juxtaposition. She sipped again, spending useless minutes drinking a chilly coke. She would be with Arthur, but the doctors had said that he would be unconscious for a while and that she might as well grab something from the cafe downstairs if she insisted on staying the whole time. They didn’t even get her a chance to see him, much less figure out what exactly his condition was. Although, Vivi felt as though she couldn’t argue. For what it’s worth, she was lucky for them to let her stay the nights till they could omit Arthur out of the hospital. She was technically released today, but she wouldn’t leave Arthur behind like that. Not after the cave, and most certainly not now. She rested a light hand on her side where demonic garden shears dug into her side. The lacerations had been deep and she was bedridden for 4 days, but it was as easy of a fix as she could’ve hoped for. She slurped again, garnering more glares from the normal folk who were blind to her antics. Their annoyance was fairly obvious, and Vivi took this as a cue to get the hell out and back up to Arthur. White flooded her senses once again as she stepped out of the warm cafe and back into the frigid hospital.

Through various hallways and stairwells, Vivi walked nonchalantly, taking swigs of her drink without the extra slurp each time. She bounced to no rhythm, meandering back up to the second floor and down into the hall where Arthur was kept. Nurses and other staff walked in both directions, everyone being much more calm on this level. They all were either walking alone, carrying linen, bed pans, or other such supplies, or they were walking with another staff member, talking about the condition of one of the patients. She was nearing Arthur’s room, catching the black lettering that read “284” as she came in. 

But someone came in faster. Two nurses sped past Vivi in an obvious panic, diving right into Arthur’s room. This was highly suspicious to the paranormal investigator, her eyebrows furrowed with both worry and confusion. Was there something wrong? She caught the door as it was closing, and stepped halfway into the room to observe, and possibly intervene if she felt it necessary. Inside, the nurses looked a tad confused too. Arthur was in the bed, completely still, but his heart rate had shot through the metaphorical roof. It was almost like he was panicking, but there was zero physical response. His head was turned to the heart monitor as he struggled to breathe. One took a look at his clipboard, just to make sure they didn’t give him anything that he wasn’t supposed to have. Vivi watched the event unfold with apprehension, expecting something totally out of the blue to happen like always. The nurse checking the clipboard told the other, “he isn’t allergic to anything, so we should probably give him at most a moderate sedative to try and calm his heart rate and breathing.” The nurse’s voice was deep and confident. The other nodded, and prepared the concoction. The one with Arthur’s clipboard spotted Vivi in the doorway and smiled. “Are you here for Mr. Kingsman?” She did nothing but nod, as did he. “I figured. We’re only going to give him a light sedative to try to calm his heart down, so he shouldn’t get knocked out by it. But, every body acts differently.”

Vivi felt like the only thing she could do was nod along. She flicked her gaze over to Arthur as the other nurse injected him with the sedative, and stepping away. Arthur’s face was tilted away from her, so it was hard to tell what was happening, but judging by the looks of the nurses, he wasn’t doing what they thought he would. The one who administered the serum hummed lightly, eyebrows furrowed. “I guess he’s a bit more sensitive…” This was a bit concerning to her, to say the least, and expected them to tell her he was now in a coma or something. But, the male nurse just nodded, mumbled some words to the other, and turned to walk out. 

Vivi stepped in further, clearing out the doorway for the nurse to exit, leaving her and the one other nurse in there. The investigator tried to peer over everything to get a look at Arthur’s face. The nurse in there turned to her and said, slightly defeated, “he’s not really there right now. You can talk to him but he might not be able to answer much. From what it looks like, he’s between unconsciousness and consciousness.”

The bluenette shifted her gaze to the nurse, who was also moving to leave as well. “Why isn’t he moving though?”

The nurse stopped and looked over, slightly confused. “Pardon?”

Vivi reiterated, “why isn’t he moving his arm? Usually when he panics, his hand shakes…” Her voice tapered off.

The nurse let out her breath softly, as if to prepare herself. “Listen Miss…” she trailed off, encouraging some help from Vivi.

“Vivi Yukino.”

“Miss Yukino,”

“Please, Miss Yukino was my grandmother!” Vivi chuckled a bit, but it was pained and forced. 

The nurse, none the less, appreciated the gesture. “Miss Vivi… your friend has Quadriplegia. The fall had broken his spine fairly high up on his neck. It was low enough to not kill him, but we still couldn’t restore the nerves in surgery. He won’t be able to use his arm or legs again.” She stared at Vivi directly in her eyes with sympathy. “I’m sorry.” The nurse hung back for a second longer before leaving, fully aware of the damage she wrought on the young, bubbly girl. What ghost of a smile was left on her face had been expunged in seconds. 

Vivi was left to contemplate the information hard. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her bright blue eyes were dulled and unfocused. Her best friend was paralyzed from the neck down. It wasn’t an arm this time. It was his entire god damn body. Everything. Toes, fingers, arms, thumbs, dick. Well… she didn’t know the extent of Quadriplegia. Vivi never counted herself lucky to not need to know the extent of Quadriplegia, but here she was. Here they all were. Vivi set aside her soda, no longer thirsty. Her eyebrows were knit together at this point as thoughts festered in her head. She knew this was her fault. She was always so damn insistent on going on ghost hunts, and always dragged Arthur along, despite his numerous protests. He told her time and time again that she’d get hurt. Vivi always thought she’d never too hurt. Maybe she was right, depending on what some would define as “hurt.” But now, her friend lost everything. An arm was sad, but Arthur made a new one, and she was there to help with his mental problems that came with it, but now… Vivi was terrified. She was utterly terrified of what would become of Arthur now that he was trapped. There was no fixing this. He couldn’t bounce back. Vivi hung her head, forearms bracing each side of her neck. Her sides hurt like hell, bending over like that, but she did nothing to alleviate the pain. They were scratches. A sign that she always got off so fucking easy. The bluenette hardly registered the moisture in her eyes before droplets of water hit her sky blue skirt. She sniffed and sat up straight, rubbing her eyes with her long sweater sleeves. Vivi eyed Arthur again. She pondered if he had figured it out in his minutes of full awareness. 

“Vivi, how is he?” A deep and level voice called from the doorway. The aforementioned lady flicked her eyes over to see her little pup standing in the doorway, nose propping the wooden door open. Had it been any other circumstance, she would’ve fawned over how cute her dog was and shoved it into Arthur’s face, loudly proclaiming that her dog was more cute than his hamster. However, this was not one of those many other circumstances, and instead, Vivi just sniffed and held out a hand, silently begging for Mystery to bound over and comfort her in the wordless way he always did. The kitsune was quick to pad over, pushing his black, spikey hair into his owner’s hand. “What’s wrong?,” he asked, a genuinely curious and concerned tone lacing every syllable.

The investigator sighed, and picked up Mystery roughly, resting her gaze back upon Arthur. His head twitched, but not much else was happening with him. Vivi inhaled, and stroked Mystery’s back. “Arthur got paralyzed… from the neck down. He can’t move anything anymore.” Her voice was uncharacteristically sullen, and downcast.

Mystery looked confused, but almost unbelieving. “Surely… you jest?” His head swiveled over to look at his kit, eyes searching for a movement from his legs or arm. Arthur’s head shifted once more, but nothing else. The fox wiggled out of Vivi’s hold and scrambled up onto Arthur’s bed, sniffing at the limbs, and poking them with his nose. Still nothing.

A drugged Arthur managed to lift his head, half lidded eyes gazing dully down at the small dog. “Myst...Mystr’y?” He slurred more than his southern accent usually incurred, and he blinked groggily. “Fella… I…” The man squeezed his eyes shut, mouth pressed into a thin line. He huffed after a bit, opening his eyes again, but didn’t look at anyone. He just stared at the ceiling, eyes glazed with tears. There were no words he could say without his voice breaking.

Vivi stood, trembling lightly from the unusual fear she felt. It was a calm moment, no blood, demons, or cults, yet she feared this moment more than any chase she was caught in. “Arthur. One of the nurses talked to me before they left.” She cleared her throat uncomfortably. Arthur didn’t move to look at her, and she could see that he understood what was going on.

“What they call it?” The mechanic’s question cut through the lengthy pause, brows furrowed in… anger?

Vivi was caught a bit off guard but she tried to respond quickly. “Uh.. she said it was… Quadraplegia? Somethin’ like that… I know that this is gonna be hard, Artie, but we can get through this. Just like with your arm, right?” She asked more for herself.

Arthur tilted his head over, looking Vivi dead in the eyes. She could see so many emotions swirling in them. Fear, anger, hopelessness. “Vivi.” His voice was a scratch above a whisper, and low, maybe to sound threatening or angry. It came across as broken. “I ain’t feelin’ m’body. I could’ah woke up right here and woulda never known that m’body was even there. It ain’t ‘n arm no more Vivi.” The fluorescent lights reflected off of something that started to well up in the man’s eyes. “Fer all I know, ‘m dead right now.” His voice finally cracked, but he still was determined to keep tears at bay. He visibly grit his teeth, in his last ditch effort to keep everything under wraps. “‘Cuz I can’t feel m’own heart beat’n.” A sharp inhale, and he was done. The dams broke, but Arthur remained deathly silent. His eyebrows were upturned now, completing the look of a wounded puppy. And by god was it enough to get Vivi to join the sob party. 

The woman bent over, and hugged her best friend as tightly as she could and with all the love she could muster, but there was no one on the other end to receive it.


	3. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lewis figures that it would be best to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back.
> 
> There is an official chapter count. Everything has been planned out and all I have to do is flesh each one out.
> 
> Critique is always welcome.
> 
> Let's begin.

Hidden from sight, Lewis kept a keen eye on Vivi and Arthur, with uncertainty. He had hung around Vivi during her stay at the hospital, just to make sure she made it through when he wasn’t there for her when she got injured. It was an easy distraction for him for a while. Now, she was out, and with Arthur again. The thought churned his nonexistent stomach. It conjured up a menagerie of emotions that fought with each other within the spirit’s skull. The anger and rage that formed him still burned, unsatisfied, but new feelings writhed their way in. 

Confusion, now that the stakes were low. His sights weren’t trained on his former friend’s throat, and he could see the missing arm, and the utter disarray that Arthur was in before he was permanently bedridden.

Impatience picked at Lewis, and he found himself desiring to figure out Arthur’s story. Something nagged at his brain that this didn’t line up. A part of him that was shoved to the back of his thoughts, but never truly revealed itself. Whether it was out of spite or fear was lost to the magenta ghost. 

But perhaps the most concerning, was the feeling of regret. After all the things Arthur stole from Lewis with a single push. After years of plotting and planning. After the moment all of his rage had lead up to, he regretted his action. Or it was more so, he regretted the outcome. When he tossed Arthur off the cliff, there was no satisfaction. As the mechanic plummeted, there was no fear or anger. It was just bewilderment, and hurt, almost as if he had no clue what just happened, and for what reason. He hit the ground. Not one spike skewered him. He lay on the cold stone, broken. Now, he was permanently immobilized, and this was what Lewis deeply regretted. He hated Arthur with a burning passion, but he wanted justice for what Arthur did to him. An eye for an eye, but this was more so an body for an eye.

Mystery and Vivi were busy trying to distract Arthur, which was going about as well as anyone could guess. All the man did was stare at his heart monitor and leave one word responses and dead chuckles to every joke; however, Vivi persisted with her jokes and jocularity. Mystery remained on his bed, but was careful to say off of his chest. Lewis hung above him, but no one knew it. He stared at the man who killed him, who looked more like a caged animal, no life or fight in his eyes. Lewis just huffed. Deadbeats clamored in Anchor, fighting to get a good look at the outside without popping out and spooking the people who were still unaware of their master’s presence. 

The day filtered through, and the room took a warm hue as the sun set cast it’s firy rays across Arthur’s room, and Vivi had long since hit her snooze button. Mystery hid under the bed so that none of the doctors or nurses would kick him out, and drifted off as well. They were always ones to get the most sleep out of any of them, and were constantly energetic because of it. Arthur, however, was wide awake, now looking up at the ceiling. Lewis stood at the wall opposite to the foot of Arthur’s bed, with arms crossed. He more or less glared at Arthur, contemplating whether or not he should show himself. He thought out the consequences of bursting into the scene. Arthur would probably freak out, make some noise. It probably wouldn’t wake Vivi, but Mystery would be up in a heartbeat. Nurses would definitely hear him. Then again, Lewis could quickly fade from view again before anyone else got there and convince Arthur to not cause another commotion. But with the nurses coming in, Vivi might wake up and she was a variable that Lewis would much rather not deal with at the moment. He loved the woman to death, but he didn’t know if trying to tell an already emotionally wrecked and unstable magical ghost hunter that he paralyzed her friend was the best idea on earth. Then again, Vivi wasn’t going anywhere, and Lewis knew that he had to get this chain of events out of the way so that the next time he showed up, they could make some progress.

Lewis released his transparency and let his glaring gaze to be fully known by the recipient. As predicted, Arthur caught sight of the apparition and his heartbeat instantly spiked, while Lewis’ remained constant. The mechanic struggled to breath and his head pulled away fearfully, but he did not scream. It was a tad surprising, but good for Lewis since the nurses wouldn’t be coming in such a rush as last time. The ghost approached Arthur slowly, his frustrated face still set in. “Arthur.” His voice was strong and reverberated around the room. Arthur didn’t answer, just closed his orange amber eyes, expecting a magenta flame to engulf him. Lewis shook his skull and called out again. “God.. Just open your eyes and calm down, Kingsman.” Arthur shook his head, ruffling his orange hair more than it already was. The spirit’s patience was quickly burning off, and his hair flared up. “For the love of… Kingsman! I’m here to talk, not put you out of your misery, now look at me or I might just do that!”

At this point, Mystery had long since woken up due to Lewis’ thundering voice, and scampered out, small teeth bared and scarlet eyes trained on the skeleton. “You have some nerve showing up here, ghost,” he grounded out through his teeth, his voice taking on a low, guttural sound that greatly contrasted his typical, proper tone. 

Lewis didn’t pay any mind to the small dog, the fact that Mystery was actually a very large fox demon temporarily slipping his mind. Instead, he kept his bright, magenta eyes trained on his killer. “I’m not here to kill him, Mystery, if that is what you are so concerned about.” His voice now was subdued, and quiet, but it was calm to the point of being facetious. “I am here to get answers from Kingsman.” His hands lowered to grip the metal of Arthur’s bed frame. “So, are you going to work with me on this?,” he asked directly.

The ginger blinked open his orange amber eyes to focus on his best friend, eyebrows upturned in fear, but everything else lay perfectly still. “W-w-what d’ya need t’know?” The question came out quick, eager to get this over with.

“First,” Lewis started, “how did you not recognize me before?”

“It’s kinda hard w-with out yer… ol’…” The sentence quickly died off in shame.

The ghost gave a heavy humph. “Fine. Second, why did you kill me?”

Mystery cut in. “He doesn’t rememb-”

Arthur promptly shushed the dog with his voice, but kept his orange amber eyes forward. “I remembered today, when I woke up.” Mystery didn’t say anything else, but looked like he was about to give another interjection at any moment. “I… In t’cave… we wer’ tryin’ to find out why so many folks kept’n dying there. T’reason… as it turned out, was…” He started struggling with his words, and his breathing became more erratic. Still, he persisted. “There was… a demon in there… a-... an’… an’…” He hushed himself, orange amber eyes sliding closed again. 

Mystery took the story over for him. “The demon took control of Arthur’s arm. He was a vessel that was used to kill you.” His gaze was hard, but curious. “Any other explanation you need?”

Lewis was staring at the mascot now, a little caught off guard. He only hoped that his skull didn’t have enough expressionablity to betray that thought, although his magenta eyes were sure to display his sudden hit of doubt. “Uh.. What happened to his arm?” Damnit, he sounded so lost there. 

Mystery gave a small smile, a knowing glint in his scarlet eyes. It was quickly stifled, when he answered. “I had to talk it off for the good of everyone. If I didn’t, then the demon would’ve consumed Arthur’s soul, and the death of his body would’ve been necessary.” 

The ghost hung with a sort of unease, and Arthur let the uncomfortable silence hang. Lewis’ questions were answered, but it didn’t make him feel better. Nothing about this revenge shit made him feel better. It was all crummy and confusing. Coming to terms with the facts presented to him was near impossible. He had been enraged for so long, he couldn’t accept that it was all unfounded. 

But he could at least give Arthur a concerned sideward glance.


End file.
